


The Clock Keeps the Hours

by SharpestScalpel



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, cupid and psyche, mythological dubcon, why are all my fills fairy tales?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestScalpel/pseuds/SharpestScalpel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a kink meme prompt (what are the odds of that?):</p><p>http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6192.html?thread=9532976#t9532976</p><p><i>Charles marries Erik without ever being allowed to see him. There is a lot of hot passionate sex, but Charles is always either blindfolded or the room is always too dark to make out Erik's face. Charles' so-called friends suggest that Erik might be really ugly and encourage him to find out what Erik looks like.</i></p><p><i>I just want lots of semi-anonymous porn and torn/confused!Charles.</i></p><p>There's not much porn, alas. I need to work on that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clock Keeps the Hours

In the darkness, all-encompassing as it was, Charles sat and listened to his own pulse beat in his ears. His heart continued its work, fast but regular, and his blood pounded in his veins. Funny, he thought, how he'd never taken the time to listen to it before. It felt unbearably intimate, but it was his own body.

That was not entirely true. Charles rubbed a hand over his naked belly. If he were to be entirely honest, his body belonged to the strange man who kept him here, the man who visited only in the deepest parts of night when there was no light to betray his face. Charles lived inside his skin, but his midnight lover...

His husband.

Charles lived inside his skin, but his husband made it a skin worth living in. _Erik._ Charles had learned his husband's name on their wedding night. Erik had come to him for the first time then, writing love words that could not be read over the flesh of Charles's back and sides. He had whispered in Charles's ear, never raised his voice, even when he shuddered out his completion.

The first night, Charles had been too frightened; he had wavered between anxious hardness and nervous flaccidity. And Erik had kissed him just the same, licked over the soft head of Charles's cock with... Even that night it had felt like a precious affection. Care. Erik had wiped the milky streaks of his own climax from Charles's body with a warm, wet cloth, cleaned him and tended to him until Charles had fallen into an exhausted, confused slumber.

Morning had come late for Charles the next day, the wheel of Apollo's chariot high in the sky before he'd climbed out of the really rather ridiculously luxurious bed. He had explored, learned the limits of his freedoms - and they were extensive. No contact with those he had left behind, but, in truth, there was so much ahead of him that it was hard to look back with any regret.

Night had followed day, as it always did. And in the middle of the night, his husband had returned with tentative, exploratory kisses that asked permission so sweetly Charles had only said yes. Thus Charles had found a new habit, a new pattern to his living. Days, he spent exploring and reading, soaking up all the books the expansive library had to offer. Nights, he spent worshiping Eros.

Charles looked up - the air pressure had changed. "Erik?" It would not be anyone else. When the sun went down, no matter where in the house Charles went, he was alone.

Every sense was heightened in the dark. The bedclothes rustled, louder than the rush of Charles's blood. He had never seen his husband, had never so much as glimpsed his face. Charles's wondered about Erik's eyes, what color they might be when Erik sobbed out his pleasure.

His husband might be a monster. His husband might be a god. There was no way to know it without destroying what there was between them.

"Are you coming to bed, Charles?" Erik always asked.

Monster or god, Charles did not have it in him to care. He smiled, confident that Erik would know it. "Oh, certainly, my love. Most certainly."


End file.
